When I Look in the Mirror
by wickedfrominnocence
Summary: Regina is the mayor of New York City; Peggy is an agent with S.H.I.E.L.D.; Regina is battling with her own mind and how it views her own body; Peggy is battling to change Regina's mind. Will Peggy's love be enough to transition Regina's thoughts from toxic to positive?
1. Chapter 1

Henry has been dropped off at Emma and Killian's apartment (he'd seemed quite grumpy about having to wake so early, but Regina had managed to get him moving with the promise of a mother-son ice cream date later on in the day; an after school treat which would most likely ruin his appetite for dinner, but she'd allow it this once). Plus, the boy enjoyed spending time with Emma and Killian, particularly Killian, and Regina had imagined that was because his father had been ripped from his life before he was even born and the man had become a bit of a father-figure for him. She had already thanked the couple profusely and given them instructions on where to drop Henry off for school even though they've done it before and should remember, but she can never be too cautious when it comes to her son.

It's 6:32 am by the time Regina steps into line at Topped Off, a small, hole-in-the-wall coffee shop she has taken a liking to in her time as mayor of New York City. Most days when she stopped off there, the line was small, only one or two people in front of her, making it a quick trip. Today was not one of those days. Well, really, if she'd come an hour later, at her usual time, it probably would have been fine, but she'd come in early today and there was a good six or seven people ahead of her from her count and there's more people filing in line behind her. She has time, though. Or, at least, that's what she tells herself even as she checks her phone and feels a sudden bout of anxiety settling in her stomach the way it always does when she feels rushed.

The school she is suppose to give a talk at doesn't start its day until 7:25 and she has her talking points on her, but she still wished to have time to sit down and properly enjoy her cup of coffee before heading over there. At this rate, she'd have to take it to go in order to be on time thanks to New York traffic.

She's finally nearing the front of the line when she hears it, a soft clicking sound coming from further back in the line. Nothing frightening; nothing that has her alarm going off in her head that anyone might be in danger. No, somebody is impatient and it has her turning slightly, glancing back over her shoulder to catch sight of the brunette who keeps tapping the stiletto heel of her shoe against the floor.

Regina's gaze shifts from her heel up her body, mentally noting the way the woman's high-waisted skirt and silk blouse clung to her body in just the right way to show off her curves and the fact that, yes, she was proud of her femininity, but she was still strong. Her gaze finally meets the woman's features, taking in the red lipstick that stands out against pale skin and the way loose curls frame her face perfectly.

Regina only pulls her gaze away from the woman when the person in line behind her clears their throat, chin jutting out a bit to motion toward the counter where the barista was waiting for Regina to step forward and order.

"Sorry," she murmured to the stranger before stepping forward and offering the man behind the counter a warm smile. "The usual to go, please. And," she pauses, glances back at the woman who had shifted forward in line but was still tapping her heel and glancing at her phone, an anxious expression spreading across her features, "whatever she is having," she finishes as she turns back to the man.

It's not meant to be quite such a leading statement, but, apparently, the man had taken it that way if the raise of his brow was anything to go by.

"I can't have you losing a customer, now, can I?" She retorts before stepping away from the counter and striding a few paces until she is face-to-face with the woman in question. "Go ahead and place your order," she began, a warm smile spreading across her lips as she seemed to grab the woman's attention, bringing it up to her features instead of keeping it focused on the phone in her hand, "it's on me."

Regina quirked a manicured brow up at the woman when there was no response, smile shifting into a smirk, "Unless you'd like to continue waiting in line when you're obviously in a rush."

That works; has the woman stepping out of line and up to the counter as she slips her phone into her purse.

"A large Earl Grey to go, please," she states, an accent flooding her words, "plain," she adds almost as if it's an after thought.

The woman turns to thank Regina and her smirk shifts into a smile again as she shrugs a shoulder, stating, "Perks of being mayor."

She pauses then to withdraw her card and slide it across the counter to cover both drinks, stepping off to the side only once the transaction is completed and her card is safely tucked back in her wallet.

"Regina Mills," she offers as she turns toward the woman once more, hand extended for her to take hold of and shake. The woman does, grip more firm than Regina had expected, though her thoughts are pulled from that when the woman offers her name in response, "Peggy Carter," and there's that beautiful accent again.

"Truly, thank you," the woman— Peggy— states as she steps further away from the counter where they ordered and strides to the opposite end of the counter where their drinks would be handed to them within the next few minutes.

"No need to thank me," Regina states, following suit in stepping to the other end of the counter, "I've had those days and wish there had been someone around to help speed things along, so why not help someone else out when they're in that situation?" Karma? Perhaps. Trying to simply be kind to others? Definitely.

"Do you use your perks of being mayor with many people?"

The question takes her by surprise and his her brows rising, forehead creasing as she takes in Peggy's features, from the way one corner of her lips quirked up into a crooked grin, to the way her eyes held a deeper question.

"No," she comments simply, "I actually try not to use them— try to fit in instead of stand out." Easier said than done, though, she admits to herself. Not the part about not using the perks that came with being mayor, but about not standing out; that was hard to do when your face was constantly on television, in some newspaper or another, or you were giving a speech at an event that drew quite a crowd.

"That's more than you could ask of most people." That accent clings to each word that slips from Peggy's lips and Regina suddenly finds herself curious as to why the woman had come to the states to begin with, but was that really a question for a first meeting?

"What brings you to New York?" Apparently it was in Regina's mind, "From London, if my ears don't deceive me," she added moments later.

"It appears you've got quite a good ear," Peggy states, head tilting to the side slightly, arms coming to cross over her chest, "my work brought me over to the states, actually, and I've been here ever since."

A woman's voice from behind the counter pulls both their attention as she calls out the order of a large Earl Grey tea. Peggy gracefully steps forward and reaches for the cup, a smile gracing her features now as she thanks the woman and turns back to Regina.

"I'm afraid I must be on my way," she states as she switches the cup from one hand to the other, extending a hand toward Regina this time. Regina took hold of it and gave it a single shake. "It's been a pleasure. Perhaps next time we meet, we'll have more time to hold a proper conversation."

Regina loosens her grip, lets Peggy's hand slip from it, and had been intent on commenting on Peggy's words, but then that voice rings out, 'Large, non-fat, caramel macchiato,' and tugs Regina's attention away. It's the one indulgence she allows herself— non-fat to balance out the calories the caramel adds— and she happily reaches for the cup, mimicking Peggy's earlier words of thanking the woman before turning back to look at Peggy, but the woman had already slipped out the door and into the sea of people that lined the sidewalk.

Her gaze slowly shifted to the cashier, offering him a faint smile before exiting the coffee shop and heading for her car so she could begin making her way to the school she was suppose to talk at. Usually, she would have been going over her talking points during her drive, possibly thinking up questions students might ask and the answer she would give, but today her mind kept slipping back to the beautiful brunette she now counted as an acquaintance even if she wished she were a bit more than that.


	2. Chapter 2

It's Saturday, only two days after her run in with the mayor at Topped Off. It also just so happens to be Peggy's day off, though the presses never sleep, do they? So she keeps a notepad and pen tucked away in her purse just to be safe, just in case she happens upon some story she could go pitch to her editor and write up before nightfall.

When the bell over the door sounds and announces another customer coming in, Peggy thinks nothing of it. That is, until a familiar voice reaches her ears; a voice that's ordering a large, non-fat caramel macchiato, "But can you only use half the caramel, please?" The question is tacked on at the end, like the woman hadn't quite decided whether or not she wanted to order it that way until she'd overthought it so much that it nagged at her.

"Madame Mayor," Peggy begins, rising easily from her seat and setting aside the mug of tea (yes, when she wasn't in so much of a damn hurry, she did request to have a proper mug for her tea) she had been sipping at. She leaves her purse there, hanging from the back of the seat, it's not like there's many people around at this early an hour, so there's no fear of it being stolen. However, she does grab one item from it before she strides up to the counter, uncaring that she's now within the woman's personal bubble of space as she presses her card to the counter and slides it to the cashier. "On me," Peggy insists, gaze fixed on the cashier in a way to tell them that she doesn't wish to be argued with over this even if the mayor is turning to look at her and saying something about how she can very well afford her own coffee, thank you.

"On me," Peggy repeats again, this time her voice is softer and she's turning on her heel to face the mayor, offering up a warm smile. "I do believe you paid for mine last time, Mada—" she's cut off as Regina holds up a hand between them, silently telling her to stop.

"It's Regina," she corrects with a smile that mirrors Peggy's. With their focus both being torn away from the cashier, Regina couldn't fight it anymore, the cashier had already grabbed Peggy's card from the counter and swiped it, charging her for the coffee. What was a few dollars going to hurt anyway?

"Regina, then," Peggy states as she holds a hand out, palm up, for the cashier to hand her back her card. "One favor returned for another." Peggy dislikes the feeling of owing somebody anything. She's worked hard to get to this point in her life and career and she doesn't do hand-outs, even though she knows that's not how the mayor had looked at the previous purchase.

It's easy then to slip back out of the brunette's personal space and stride back toward her table, settling down in her seat once more. and placing her card back where it belonged. She'd just lifted her mug to her lips to take a quick sip when that figure, which was coming increasingly familiar to her now, stood across from her.

"This seat taken?" A manicured brow rose up as Regina questioned Peggy.

Peggy swallowed down the tea quickly, carefully placing the mug back down on the table before waving a hand at the seat. "Please."

Regina doesn't need any more prompting than that to pull the seat out from the table and settle into it, one leg crossing over the other and causing that skirt of hers to hug her curves just that much more. Peggy can appreciate a beautiful figure, male or female, thank you very much. She doesn't let her eyes linger, though, she quickly brings them back up to Regina's gaze, curious as to why the mayor would take the time to sit with her when Peggy's sure she had much more pressing matters to attend to.

As if Regina had read Peggy's mind, she parts her lips to begin. "You did say something about hoping to have a proper conversation the last time we saw each other, did you not?"

A simple nod of her head was all Peggy gave in response.

"Well, I do have a bit of free time at the moment." Henry was enjoying a movie with a friend and she wasn't set to give any kind of speech or talk today, so her morning and afternoon had a lot more free time than usual. It's something she thanks her team for; they're the ones who manage to set up most of her big events during the week when her son is at school and do their best to leave her weekends as free as possible.

Peggy parts her lips to question the mayor then, but is quickly cut off with a, "No talk of my job, though. Please." She's not begging and pleading with Peggy, but making a request, and Peggy can go with that.

"Tell me about what you do outside of your job, then. Hobbies? Family?" It's not entirely specific, it's purposely left open enough that Regina can decide which route to take. She seems to have picked up on that because Peggy can see her mulling over which way to respond.

"My son is eleven," is the first response she gets and it takes her by surprise and has Peggy humming quietly in return, letting Regina know that she'd heard, but that she could continue. "Henry. He's my life outside of work. Quite the handful, really. Mischievous."

A quiet laugh bubbles up from Peggy and, really, anyone would know that it was a beautiful sound. Regina mentally notes to try to hear it again before their conversation is over. Why, though, she's not entirely sure. Just like she's not sure why she can't tear her eyes away from the smile that graces Peggy's lips as she laughs. "I bet you'll say he gets it from his father, not you."

That comment has Regina offering up her own smile, though it fades almost as quickly as it appeared. "He passed," she states, voice quieter than usual. "But I think he got it from both of us."

Peggy notices how that smile faded quickly and knows she must have touched a nerve. "I shouldn't have."

"No, it's fine. I don't like to live in the past and I've had my time to grieve and move on, but I do see so much of Daniel in Henry." Daniel. It's another note Peggy keeps in the back of her mind; how Regina used his name instead of a title, such as husband or fiancé. Blame it on her journalistic nature, but Peggy notes little things like this all the time, whether it be just mentally or physically jotting it down in her notepad.

"I like to read," she adds and it's only then that Peggy realized she'd let her mind drift a bit; allowed herself to read into little things instead of staying present in the moment, "and cook. It's relaxing to me."

"I've never been much of a cook," Peggy comments, "though I am quite adept at ordering takeout."

Both of them are pulled from the conversation when a familiar order is called out which has Regina rising and striding over to pick it up before returning to the table. She brings the cup to her lips and lets her eyes fall closed as she swallows down the taste, slightly less sweet than normal, but she's thankful for that. She's already allowed herself one of these this week, which is typically her limit, so she needed to cut back somewhere.

Dark lashes flutter open after a second sip and she finds that Peggy is sitting back further in her seat, draping an arm over the back of the chair, looking far more comfortable than she previously had.

Regina picks up the conversation right where they'd left off. "Takeout isn't a proper meal." She pauses there and purses her lips together into a thin line as if she's thinking about what to say next. "I'll have to make you one."

"That's not necessary. I've managed to keep myself alive and well, haven't I?"

"You haven't lived until you've tried my balsamic chicken bowl." Regina seems so sure of herself and it has Peggy furrowing her brows slightly. "Are you free tonight?"

Well, if that wasn't a loaded question, Peggy didn't know what was.

"Well, Miss Carter?"

Peggy's brows rose at that and her heart sped up slightly. She'd never given her last name. "How did you—"

"Perk of being mayor. I was curious about the woman who seemed to be in such a rush and I'd heard whispers of a woman who had traveled from London and landed a job at one of the papers here. I thought, perhaps, it was you."

"You had me looked in to?" That was trusting of her. Was Peggy's life not private?

"Just your name and a photograph to see if my thinking was correct." Then she was back to the topic of dinner again. "Balsamic chicken. Tonight. Eight o'clock."

"Yes, Ma'am," Peggy retorts with a cheeky grin because it sounded much more like a command this time than a request, though Peggy didn't know how anyone could turn down a request from the mayor herself.


End file.
